


Unkiss Me

by Aquielle



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: And groping, Angsty Schmoop, Boys Kissing, Explicit Sexual Content, Gallavich, Ian is bossy, M/M, Mickey is needy, those two things blend well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:58:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquielle/pseuds/Aquielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian never learned to play an instrument at school, couldn't afford it; but Mickey he can play like a virtuoso.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unkiss Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emmyloo03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmyloo03/gifts).



> This one is for Emmy, for all the flailing and crying. For all the OYG and YOOO moments. For being my lil thuggy bear.

The first time Mickey kissed Ian in public was in the back hall of the Alibi, yanking him into a broom closet because watching him across the room was more than he could take anymore. He had only kissed Ian once and it was more to prove a point than anything else, but the taste had lingered in his mind and it was slowly driving him crazy.

Mickey had given over everything he would ever be to Ian's keeping, he had carved out his fucking heart and placed it in Gallagher's hands. Only problem was no one knew that shit, not even Ian because he couldn't say the words or shatter the illusion that he had build one brick at a time.

Mickey was steadfast in his need to hide, but his inability to stay away from Ian kept fucking that up. His lack of willpower being on stunning display as he pulled the redhead into the broom closet to the intention of kissing him breathless.

Mickey's hands move, hesitant at first but gaining courage, cupping around his neck, thumbs rubbing circles on Ian's jaw. Ian leans into the touch, they brush against each other in the dark when Gallagher traces a finger along his cheek he wants to open his mouth and suck his finger inside, so he does.

Fuck repression.

Ian gasps quietly like they have never touched each other before, like lightening has shot through him. It's a frightening seductive sound and as Ian curls a palm around his chin Mickey sucks on his finger just to hear the tiny noise that falls from Ian's mouth.

They don't do this face to face, and they sure as fuck don't do this in public. But Mickey wants Ian's mouth, he knows he'll pay for this later, hate himself for his weakness but still he wants his mouth.

Ian's words echo in his head; "We shouldn't do this here." But Mickey doesn't fucking care, wonders why he ever has, because he wants Gallagher, has wanted him beyond the point of distraction and it has been more torture than his father ever inflicted on him.

Maybe it has just been on top of all the other pain. Aching hurts and he has ached for Ian, during the long nights alone in his bed.

Mickey realizes that falling for Ian has been a slick and jagged slope, he kept thinking that someday things could be the way he wanted. But someday is always so fucking far away and he's tired of waiting for the right moment to come.

Fuck waiting.

Now is the only moment that matters because right now he can suck on Ian's finger like taffy and move close so that he is pressed up against him.

Ian huffs out a breath as Mickey drops his finger from his mouth with a wet pop and his back hits the door. Mickey tips his skull down and crushes their lips together.

Ian groans. His mouth open and hot as he pushes his tongue past chapped lips with an overwhelming need to be inside, as close as he can get, because he knows this moment can't last.

Stolen moments are always like that, fleeting.

He wants to feel angry, bitter and filled with resentment. He knows he will later, when he runs to hide from all the feelings inside that can't be given name. When the real world crashes down and Gallagher finally sees him for the useless thug that he is.

But now, now the lust is coursing through them, pushing bodies against each other as he runs his hand up Ian's neck into his hair to grip and keep him close. Ian is kissing back in a positively ferocious way with teeth nipping and sharp noises. Ian's nails dig into his scalp, scraping roughly, leaving him hungry to hold him tighter, wanting to devour him.

Ian is like a plucked string, vibrating and rubbing against him, hands kneading into his lower back. When Ian's hands grab hold of his ass he groans, ragged and tattered like it's being ripped out of his bones and their lips clash together.

Their kissing is harsh and seems to go on forever straining towards one another. Mickey bites his lower lip and pulls back, he reaches down between them and grips Ian's erection just to watch Firecrotch arch into his fingers.

"Is that what you want Mick?" Ian demands as he pulls the shorter man close sliding his hand inside the jeans to grip his ass, stroking closer and closer to the cleft. "You want me to fuck you here?"

Mickey bites his lip and strokes Ian slow and hard "Everywhere," he growls "Anywhere" even though he knows he is so full of shit, but he wants to mean it.

He releases Ian to grip his hips and slam them together grinding, increasing the friction. He wants more than this, more than a quick fuck in the back of a bar or a freezer but getting his hopes up never lead to anything good.

Mickey hears a clatter outside of the door and pulls back. When Ian tries to kiss him again he turns his head away and pushes away, he can feel Ian's confusion radiating off him in waves as they stare, panting like steam engines.

"Mick, help me out here, I can't read your mind man." Ian states running his hands through his now totally fucked up hair.

Mickey grits his teeth "You're right" he says "this was a stupid idea" as he pushes Ian away from the door and turns to leave.

He slams out of the closet and the back exit wanting nothing more that to punch the ever loving fuck out of whoever he sees next.

 

Ian slumps against the wall and wishes he was as smart as his brother so he could figure a way to be rid of Terry Milkovich once and for all, without resorting to murder.

He wishes he was a mind reader so he could figure out a way to not trip every fucking hair trigger that makes Mickey freak out.

Most of all he wishes he was in bed with Mickey, both hands filled with his "not your fucking boyfriend's" magnificent ass Without having to go through the whole closeted song and dance.

It was hard to justify to other people his fascination with the youngest Milkovich son. He was surly, crass and generally socially unacceptable. In spite of that Mickey had a way of making Ian feel centered and safe.

Ian loved that he was the only person who saw what the other boy truly was. Mickey rarely smiled, but when he did it was radiant, plus under that layer of dirty clothes he was hotter than the god damn sun.

Even with the bullet scars Mickey's ass is perfection. It is milky white and round, it has just the right amount of bounce to it and Christ those dimples right above it just wreck Ian to the fucking floor. It fits his stocky build and fuck was it tight.

The combination of closet ambush and thinking about the noises Mick had made when Ian tongued in between those cheeks the first time was making him hard. If only he could get him to lighten the fuck up outside of the bedroom.

He loves the way he can get away with almost anything when Mickey is face down, ass up, fingers digging into the bed all broken moans and whines.

Loves to pull at dark hair and feel the punched out sounds as he sinks in.

Loves to make him work for it, driving back all hands and knees, breathless and bouncing.

He doesn't get to control much in his own life, but every time they got close to one another Mickey turned the reins over eagerly and hell if that didn't just make Ian's dick hard.

Mickey didn't trust anyone but him, didn't fuck anyone but him. No one got to see him needy, writhing and aching for it but Ian. His boy was all tough guy facade, punches and sarcasm in public but the second Ian placed a hand on Mickey in private he lit up like he was made of sunshine, like Ian was the best thing in his whole world.

Being on the receiving end of that kind of adoration was some heady shit.

He didn't like the fact that he needed to restrain his thoughts, he should already be hearing Mickey panting his name. He palmed himself and breathed deep, pushing out of the bar to remedy his problem. Ian could wait, at least till he got home anyway, he had a plan.

 

The plain and simple truth was that Mickey Milkovich liked cock. This in and of itself was not a revelation.

He fucking loves Ian's cock, and that one came as a surprise at first if he's honest.

It's not that he doubted Ian's size, no one is walking around with that kind of swagger without packing, but he didn't quite know what he had gotten himself into the first time he let Gallagher fuck him.

It had been a bit of a frenzy and Mickey hadn't been properly laid in four months. Ian's eagerness hadn't been a shock, but the fact that he knew exactly how to use every fucking inch of that body to turn Mickey into a moaning, shaking mess had been the reason he allowed a repeat performance.

He had thought of the carrot top as a gangly, inexperienced kid and holy fuck had he never been more wrong about something before or since. He had never considered himself a size queen, had never really had the option to be particular, but now he feels like Goldielocks or some shit cause Ian is just fucking right.

Why he had started fixating on kissing Gallagher when he could be riding that dick right now was a mystery but it was becoming an issue. Maybe it was the sweet, breathless sounds that Ian made or the awed look afterward,maybe it didn't really matter, Mickey couldn't take it back now and he was so screwed.

All those thoughts tumble through his head as he kicks every rock and can in his path from the Alibi and the El underpass that is the halfway mark between his house and Ian's. The impotent rage starts to build before he even starts walking because he knew which way he was heading before he even left the fucking bar, he's so fucking whipped.

The Gallagher house is almost never locked and upon entry he sees Ian shirtless stretched across the length of the couch drumming on his chest like he had just been waiting on Mickey to show up.

The light off the street lamp out front bathes Ian in yellow as he looks up to meet blue eyes.

"What do you want Mick?" He asks with just the hint of a smile.

Mickey knows how this goes, but it doesn't mean he has to go down without swinging. He levels what to anyone else would be a terrifying glare "Don't make me say it asshole" he says as he watches the smile spread over Ian's face as he sits up.

Ian never learned to play an instrument at school, couldn't afford it; but Mickey he can play like a virtuoso. "Oh you're gonna beg for it" he taunts as he unfolds his long limbs from the couch.

Ian moves like a predator and that is Mickey's last thought before he is slammed against the front door. It's a minor miracle the damn thing doesn't break.

Ian's hands are everywhere, grabbing clothing and pulling layers off at a truly impressive speed until they are both down to boxers. He palms Mickey's back, latching his mouth onto the meatiest part of his throat.

Pulling at ginger hair Mickey groans as Ian grips two handfuls of Mickey's ass, cupping and pulling him up so he can press himself between Mickey's legs. He grinds their dicks together roughly and shit they are both rock hard already.

“God damn Gallagher, pushy much?" Mickey teases, he is answered with a bite placed at his throat and a hip digging into his cock that causes his head to slam back into the door.

Ian leaves a trail of kisses and bites along his throat, over his jaw and up to his ear. “What do you want Mick” he whispers in that low, husky voice that just fucking wrecks Mickey.

Mickey's eyes close at the sound of it, his cock straining even harder against plaid boxers as he groans into Ian's ear "Fuck, please."

"Is that a request?" Ian asks as he shifts his balance and pulls Mickey's legs up so he can take the rest of his boyfriends weight on his hips.

Mickey doesn't actually respond in words, not that Ian doesn’t understand the intent behind the grunts, but he wants to hear it...longs to make him needy, begging and raw.

"Say it Mickey, you know I'll give you what you want" he says as he presses into the cleft of his ass thought the thin layer of cloth between them. Ian is a little shit, devious, unrepentant and relentless, his hands digging in a little harder as he bucks into Mickey.

"Shit, please Ian" Mickey sobs as he swings from wanting to sink back on Ian's fingers and grind his cock forward into his hip. "Need you in me, fuck."

They’re on the couch before Mickey can comprehend what just happened. He's on his back just long enough for Ian to remove his last bit of clothing before he is manhandled onto his hands and knees. He fucking loves it when Gallagher is like this, bossy and insistent. His cock is so hard it hurts so he presses himself into the couch.

"Oh no you don't" Ian says in a sharp tone as he pulls Mickey's body so his ass is up in the air. "You asked for it" Ian groans as he kisses along the curve of Mickey's ass, pulling his cheeks apart to lave his tongue over the opening.

All of the air in Mickey's lungs leaves in a single breath as his hips stutter backwards and Ian just chuckles, pressing his tongue a little more firmly against the sensitive opening.

"Tell me how much you want it" he purrs then goes back to prodding and teasing him the tip of his tongue until he’s open.

Mickey drops his head and shoulders onto the couch cushion in defeat and in a rush groans out "fuck Ian please, anything, I'm begging you please get in me."

Ian bites his right ass cheek then suddenly thrusts his whole tongue inside. Mickey jerks like someone has electrocuted him as his back arches.

Ian feels a lance of pride shoot though him, he knows where every single button lives and exactly when to press them. It would be shameful the noises he pulls out of Mickey's throat if he had any room in his brain for shame. As it stands the only words left in Mickey's vocabulary are "please" "yes" and a rather forceful "don't you dare fucking stop" before regressing back to a keening sound.

Mickey shudders and rocks in time with the thrusts of Ian’s tongue, writhing, moaning and cussing nonsense into the couch before Ian slides the first finger into him. He circles and teases at the rim before adding another, spit soaked and spreading wide, pressing his tongue in between quick and hard making Mickey cry aloud at the sudden flood of sensation.

The stretch and burn send pleasure spiking through Mickey as Ian strokes deeper and adds the third finger. He is hard and aching and he can hardly contain himself when Ian crooks his finger at just the right angle to stroke his prostate. Mickey yelps, bucking back as fingers jab hot and heavy into him, his is so close to coming he barely even realizes the moment Ian pulls out his fingers until suddenly Ian's cock slides home.

The stretch is what does it for him, the burn of that first push that is like a strike of lightning to his nerves. Christ, Mickey thinks, Gallagher's cock is perfect. The length is just right to rub his prostate with every stroke, it's almost too much.

Ian doesn't wait for Mickey to adjust, just pulls his ass up and starts to push in, deep smooth thrusts, while his boyfriend huffs and rocks back onto him.

“Please Ian, so close” Mickey pants, cheek pressed into the cushion, eyes squeezed shut as Ian rides him hard, thrusting down into his prostate until there’s no stopping the steady pleads falling from his lips.

Ian barely touches Mickey's cock before he feels the tightening convulsions that force him to grab onto hips and bury himself as deep as possible while his boyfriend spills and cries out likes he's dying.

Ian's orgasm is sudden and intense causing his vision to blur. By the time he is fully aware again Mickey has completely collapsed onto the couch mouth slack.

"Next time you want something, just ask for it you stubborn ass" Ian breathes as he pulls out and falls on top of him kissing the back of Mickey's neck.

"Forget about it Army, I got what the fuck I wanted" Mickey states as he pushes Ian off his back and sits up.

Ian can feel the tension in both of them building up again, afterglow be damned. He hates this part. The try to talk to Mickey while he deflects and leaves part. He fucking hates it when Mickey leaves. Ian wants to let him know that it doesn't have to be all or nothing, but he doesn't know if he could handle the answer.

"Mick, you don't have to tell me you love me if you don't" he says in a quite voice, building a wall inside himself to protect from the barbed words he expects to receive in return.

Mickey shifts and pulls at the corner of his lip with his teeth but his eyes remain fixed on Ian.

Ian feels emboldened by the fact that Mickey hasn't bolted yet and the soft look on his face so he presses his luck. "This can just be whatever it is, I can handle that, but don't expect me to act like you aren't the reason I get up in the fucking morning" he admits as he cups the side of Mickey's face with his hand.

"Ian, don't" Mickey's eyes close as he begs for understanding "you know how I feel." He feels the green eyes on him and can't seem to control the urge as he locks onto Ian's lips and lets all his weight fall into him, hoping to convey the words that flash in his mind like neon but resist being said.

Ian feels the wall he build up slowly start to crumble with the desperation in Mickey's kiss. He always has had a longing for what he can't have. And maybe he can't say it yet, but Ian gets the feeling like Mick is on the verge.

He knows it'll be worth the wait.


End file.
